


Kiss me, make it better

by CelesteFitzgerald



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26152282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: George skips out on rehearsal to look after Ringo while he's sick.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	Kiss me, make it better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rufusrant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufusrant/gifts).



> Some fluffy forehead kisses for a lovely friend!

Ringo groaned as he reentered the world of consciousness. He had hoped that a good night’s sleep would cure his fever and headache, but it only made him feel worse. Wiping his nose against his pillow, he squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to go back to sleep, but the blankets on top of him felt like an oven. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, he could teleport them off so he wouldn’t have to move.

After five minutes and no luck, Ringo felt the other side of the bed dip down. He painstakingly rolled over and was surprised to find George sitting next to him.

“Feeling any better, love?” George whispered.

“George,” Ringo mumbled. “Wha’ time ‘s it?”

“It’s only ten thirty.”

“Ten—you’re supposed to be at the studio.” Ringo had gotten permission to stay home for the day, but George was perfectly healthy. He should be there by now.

George shrugged. “They’ll survive without me.”

“But you’ll get in trouble,” Ringo said, struggling to sit up.

“Don’t care. There’s no point in going if you’re not there—god, don’t strain yourself, darling.” George gently grabbed Ringo’s shoulder and helped him settle back against his pillow. “Jesus,” he muttered, pressing his hand against Ringo’s forehead. “You’re burnin’ up.”

“Too many blankets.”

Sighing, George pulled the top two layers off him, and Ringo felt like he could breathe again. “That better?”

Ringo nodded, then winced as a bead of sweat slid down his forehead into his eye. He blindly rubbed his eye against his blanket, but that only caused more sweat to roll down his face.

“Come here.” George brushed back his bangs and used his shirt to dry off his face. “Can I get you some ice water?”

“Don’t wanna bother you,” Ringo coughed.

“Alright then. Guess I’ll just sit here and watch you suffer.” George pressed a soft kiss against his forehead and stood up to get him water anyway.

It felt like George was gone for an hour—or at least long enough for Ringo’s senses to flip-flop and leave him freezing cold. When George returned, he was shivering and had his face completely under the covers.

“Ritchie?”

“I’m not Ritchie. I’m a popsicle.”

George chuckled softly and piled the blankets back on. “I’ve got your water.”

Ringo poked his eyes out from beneath his cocoon. “That’ll just make me colder.”

“Only for a moment. And I’ll warm you back up.” He held the glass out to Ringo and helped him sit halfway up.

Even after a couple sips, Ringo _did_ feel a little better. “Thanks,” he said as George set the glass on the nightstand.

“You’re welcome,” George said as he snuggled into the bed next to him.

“Hey—what’re you doing?”

“Warming you up, like I promised.”

“You’re gonna catch this from me, you fool.”

“Then you can ditch rehearsal to take care of _me_ ,” George grinned.

Rolling his eyes, Ringo relented and relaxed into George’s grip. “Then you better get me nice and warm.”

George cradled his face in his hand to kiss his forehead once more. “With pleasure.” 


End file.
